Only a few days remained until the end of the year. That day, Jia Fu accompanied her mother to the Zhen family shipyard.

This place was not only a shipyard for building or repairing vessels but also had a large area of shanties. The Zhen family was generous; since their ancestors’ time, they had built shelters here for the poor sailors and shipwrights who worked at sea for the Zhen family, providing them a place to stay when they came ashore. Later, these people married and started families, gradually multiplying, and the shanties grew more numerous. By Jia Fu’s father’s time, about a hundred households were living here. Three years ago, the families of sailors and shipwrights who had gone to sea with her father and never returned were still sheltered here. The widows relied on odd jobs in the shipyard to get by. Though life was difficult, at least they had a roof over their heads to shield them from wind and rain, and they could support themselves and their children. These past few years, at the end of each year, Madam Meng would personally come here to distribute rice and meat to the orphans and widows, and each family would receive two strings of cash so they could celebrate the New Year.

Jia Fu accompanied her mother every year, and this year was no exception. After visiting the orphans and widows, as they were leaving the shipyard, she suddenly remembered the young boy she had encountered and brought back for treatment several months ago. Wondering if he had survived, she stopped and asked a nearby shipyard manager.

The manager couldn’t recall at first—there were simply too many people working there—but after a moment, he slapped his forehead and said, “I remember now! The boy that Steward Zhang had someone deliver! He’s recovered and his illness is cured. He’s now working in the shipyard. Shall I call him to come and kowtow to the young miss?”

Jia Fu said, “I’m glad he recovered. I just suddenly remembered him and asked. There’s no need to call him over.”

The manager smiled and said, “The young miss is kind-hearted to still remember him. That boy was fortunate to meet you at that time, which saved his life. If it had been the Jin family, he would likely have ended up as fish food by now.”

The speaker meant no harm, but the listener took it to heart. Jia Fu was troubled by the phrase “as fish food,” reminding her of her father, and her mood darkened. The manager, realizing his blunder, slapped his mouth hard and hurriedly apologized, “Forgive my thoughtless words. Please don’t be upset, young miss.”

Jia Fu knew he meant no harm and managed a slight smile. Turning around, she saw her mother’s party had already reached the shipyard gate and was looking back at her, so she lifted her skirt and walked quickly toward them.

The shipyard was near the harbor, where the sea breeze was always fierce, especially at the entrance. Just as Jia Fu was passing a rack used to secure a pile of logs, a strong gust of wind howled through.

The rack had stood there for years, and the ropes at the joints had been worn by wind and rain, rotting without being replaced. The strong wind made the frame creak and sway, and suddenly the ropes burst apart. A row of logs piled higher than Jia Fu herself came tumbling down, rolling toward her.

The logs had been brought in a few days earlier for later use and hadn’t been moved yet. They weren’t very thick, only about the width of a bowl. But even so, if someone were trapped beneath so many logs rolling down at once, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Jia Fu had been looking down at the path and initially didn’t notice the commotion beside her. By the time she realized something was wrong, it was too late to react, and she stood frozen in place.

Madam Meng was standing at the shipyard gate, talking with Steward Zhang and others while waiting for her daughter to join them. Suddenly hearing a strange noise behind her, she turned to look and was terrified. Zhang and the others also noticed and reacted, immediately rushing forward, but it was already too late. Just as Jia Fu was about to be crushed by the collapsing pile of logs, at a critical moment, a ragged young boy suddenly dashed out from the side. Moving as fast as lightning, he reached Jia Fu’s side in an instant. Just before the first log rolled to her feet, he grabbed her by the waist and darted to the side. Both of them fell to the ground.

Steward Zhang and others arrived, some securing the logs, others rescuing people, and the shipyard entrance became chaotic.

Madam Meng’s face had turned deathly pale with fright. She rushed forward, pushed through the crowd, and saw the young boy lying on the ground, tightly shielding her daughter beneath him. She hurriedly knelt beside them, saying, “A Fu! A Fu! Are you alright? Are you alright? Don’t scare mother!”

The boy had moved so quickly that Jia Fu felt somewhat dizzy, pinned beneath him. Only now did she come to her senses, and hearing her mother’s voice, she opened her eyes and said tremulously, “Mother, I’m fine… I’m not hurt…”

The boy quickly climbed off her and squeezed out of the crowd. Madam Meng and Steward Zhang were so concerned about Jia Fu that they initially paid little attention to him. They helped Jia Fu to her feet and saw that apart from some dirt on her clothes and her face had turned pale with fright, she was indeed uninjured. Only then did they breathe a sigh of relief.

Madam Meng, still shaken, embraced Jia Fu and recited countless prayers. As she listened to Steward Zhang reprimanding the shipyard manager for neglect, she suddenly remembered the young boy who had saved her daughter. Looking around, she saw him walking further away. She quickly asked someone to help Jia Fu to the carriage to rest, then walked over and called out to the boy. Looking at him, she saw he was dressed in rags; in the dead of winter, he wore only a pair of straw sandals with holes, and his face was covered in dirt. But looking closer, she noticed he had quite handsome features. Not minding his filth, she took his hand and said, “Good child, I’m so grateful for your help today! What’s your name? Whose family do you belong to?”

Steward Zhang hurried over and looked at the young boy, feeling he looked somewhat familiar but unable to recall where he had seen him before. Since the boy was here, he must be working in their shipyard. Seeing that the boy didn’t respond, he turned to the shipyard manager.

The manager, whose face had turned ashen from nearly causing a disaster due to his negligence, hurriedly stepped forward and said, “This is the boy the young miss had someone bring here months ago. He was nearly dead from illness then. Remembering the young miss and your instructions, I carefully treated his illness and nursed him back to health. After he recovered, I had him do odd jobs here.”

Steward Zhang now remembered and glanced at the boy, briefly recounting to Madam Meng how they had coincidentally brought him back. Madam Meng was extremely grateful and kept praising him. After speaking for a while, she noticed that the boy had lost the agility he had shown when rushing out earlier. He just stood motionless with his head lowered, not saying a word, looking dazed. She looked questioningly at the manager.

The manager said, “Madam, this boy is mute and cannot speak. Perhaps his brain was damaged by the fever; he’s not very bright. He usually appears slow-witted.” As he spoke, he called for the boy to pay his respects to Madam Meng.

Madam Meng exclaimed in surprise, feeling even more pity for him, and quickly stopped the manager. She sighed, “See how kind-hearted this child is. Even with his mind unclear, he still remembers that A Fu saved his life, and now he risked his own to repay that debt. Looking at his handsome features, if he were with his parents, who knows how precious he would be to them. I suspect he was kidnapped by traffickers and reduced to this state. How pitiful!” She instructed the manager to quickly provide the boy with new warm clothes and shoes and repeatedly emphasized that he should be treated well from now on, with no bullying allowed. The manager promised repeatedly.

Madam Meng spoke a few more words before releasing the boy’s hand and returning to the carriage. She told Jia Fu, “This poor child is mute and not very bright.”

Jia Fu had rested in the carriage for a while and had gradually calmed down from the great shock. She watched as her mother released the boy’s hand and he turned and continued walking away with his head lowered. Jia Fu stared at his retreating figure, feeling that his gait seemed somewhat stiff and slightly limping, quite unlike the agility he had shown when rushing to save her. After hesitating briefly, she asked her mother to wait and got out of the carriage, quickly catching up to the boy and stopping him.

The boy looked up and seeing her, seemed slightly startled, but his expression remained blank.

Jia Fu smiled at him and said gently, “Is your foot injured? I notice you’re walking with some discomfort.”

The boy didn’t respond.

“Can you understand what I’m saying?” Jia Fu’s voice grew even softer as she moved closer to him. “If you’re hurt, just say so. Don’t be afraid.”

She drew near. The boy seemed to catch a faint fragrance emanating from her, a scent that was barely perceptible yet slowly seeped into his lungs. It was so different from the slightly salty air he had gradually become accustomed to here, and even more unlike the expensive incense and cosmetic fragrances he had once been familiar with in elegant chambers.

His ears unconsciously reddened slightly. Fortunately, his face was covered in dirt, and she couldn’t see.

He shook his head, lowered his gaze to avoid hers, and quickly walked past her.

Jia Fu turned her head, focusing on his feet, and saw a streak of bright red blood seeping through the straw sandals that had been worn down to almost nothing.

“Stop right there!” she called out again.

Steward Zhang rushed over and removed the boy’s sandal.

A bamboo splinter, as long as a little finger, had deeply pierced the sole of his foot, like a sharp knife.

Meeting Jia Fu’s concerned gaze, the boy’s eyes, which had seemed perpetually clouded, gradually brightened.

He gently shook his head and smiled faintly.

A fleeting expression that only she caught.

…

The New Year’s Eve of the third year of Yongxi passed. As the old year ended, the people of Quanzhou were still celebrating with gongs, drums, and lion and dragon dances. By just the third day of the new year, Jia Fu learned of some news.

Officials had come from Quanzhou Prefecture, conveying orders from above to have the Zhen family register all unregistered persons they had employed over the years, especially boys who appeared to be between thirteen and fourteen years old—not a single one could be missed. If they concealed anyone and failed to report them, and the government discovered it, there would be severe punishment without leniency.

The official was a longtime acquaintance of Steward Zhang. After delivering the order, he dismissed the others and whispered to Zhang, “This ‘above’ is no ordinary authority—it’s the Imperial Brocade Guard… A man surnamed Wang has arrived, said to be a formidable character. I don’t know what he said, but when our magistrate came out, I saw his face had turned green. The Jin family’s shipyard and ships employed countless unregistered laborers. Not understanding the severity, they concealed several, thinking it would be fine. Unfortunately, several people were taken away last night. The unregistered workers were still alive and after investigation, were just conscripted into the army. But I heard two young workers at their shipyard were beaten to death; when they were dragged out, their intestines were spilled onto the ground. I wouldn’t normally tell anyone this. But the Zhen family’s business is large, and inevitably, you must have employed some unregistered people over the years. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer the same fate, which is why I’m telling you this. Please don’t spread it around!”

After seeing the visitor off, Steward Zhang immediately reported to Old Madam Hu. The old lady’s expression turned grave, and she immediately instructed him to compile a register, reporting all unregistered persons—including those on ships, docks, porters, as well as craftsmen and helpers in the shipyard—without exception. She also ordered that they be closely watched, not allowing even one to escape.

Madam Meng was present at the time. Upon returning, she mentioned it briefly to Jia Fu, sighing, “I don’t know what’s happened again, but it makes me anxious. We must keep a close eye on your brother these days to prevent him from wandering about and possibly getting into trouble.”

Madam Meng left hurriedly. Jia Fu also felt unsettled.

According to the shipyard manager, the young boy was not only mute but also not very bright.

But Jia Fu had a feeling that the boy might not truly be slow-witted.

That day when she was in danger when the boy had pulled her away and they fell to the ground, regardless of his physical skill, there was a brief moment when their eyes met.

Although she had been frozen with fear at the time, unable to control her limbs, she still remembered clearly how his eyes had looked at her—clear and bright.

And then there was that slight smile when his foot injury was discovered. At that moment, his eyes shone with brilliance like the sun, and even the dust covering his face couldn’t hide the luster and intelligence in those eyes.

Jia Fu truly didn’t believe he was slow-witted.

If he was pretending, what was his reason? What secret lay behind this young boy? The new year had just begun, and the authorities had already made such a move—could it be related to this boy?

Jia Fu recalled Xiao Yintang’s mysterious appearance and the scene she had witnessed passing by Fuming Island—the image of those little novice monks being led away in chains remained vivid in her mind.

She wondered if the Brocade Guards and this Official Wang who had come to Quanzhou were the same group of people.

Upon hearing Grandmother’s orders, Steward Zhang would certainly register this boy.

Due to a feeling she could hardly explain, Jia Fu didn’t want this to happen. She suddenly became concerned for the boy.

But she also knew that her grandmother’s approach wasn’t wrong. The Imperial Brocade Guard was as fierce as wolves and tigers, missing nothing. If their Zhen family dared to hide anything, and it was discovered, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Jia Fu wanted to tell him this news, to help him quietly leave as soon as possible. Yet she hesitated.

After spending a night in uncertainty, the next day, she finally couldn’t resist seeking out Steward Zhang, pretending to inquire about the boy’s foot injury.

Steward Zhang glanced at Jia Fu and carefully said, “Young miss, I was busy the past few days and forgot to tell you. That boy disappeared on New Year’s Eve. Someone saw him go alone to the seaside, jump in, and never resurface. He hasn’t been seen in the shipyard for days, though his bedding and new clothes were left scattered as if he had woken up in the middle of the night, confused, wandered out, and jumped into the sea… Those sleeping nearby said he was frightened by the sound of firecrackers, wandered out in a daze, and jumped into the sea…”

Jia Fu was both surprised and saddened.

She had only been worried that he might be in danger, never imagining that he had died on New Year’s Eve.

For some reason, the unexpected death of this boy, whom she had only briefly encountered and casually saved, made her feel so heavy-hearted.

Perhaps it was that dying boy’s gaze, full of the will to live, that had resonated with her initially. Or perhaps it was the sight of his slightly limping, lonely figure walking away after using his thin body to shield her from danger just days ago.

She paused for a moment, suppressing the sadness welling up inside, and said, “Uncle Zhang, please have someone burn two incense sticks for him.”

Zhang said, “Your old uncle will remember. Please don’t be sad, young miss.”

Jia Fu smiled faintly and nodded.

…

The thirteenth day of the first lunar month, two days before the Lantern Festival. In Quanzhou City, lanterns hung outside every home. At night, the lanterns and the bright moon illuminated each other, and the entire city was filled with a festive atmosphere.

In stark contrast to the city scene was the silent, deserted harbor outside the city.

It was a clear deep night with the moon hanging high. A young boy sat alone on the sea embankment, his figure swallowed by the dark shadows of the night. The sea breeze blew against his face, but he remained motionless, facing the rising night tide, his silhouette lonely.

Suddenly, he quickly removed his clothes and shoes, and with a leap, plunged like a stone into the night tide.

A moment later, with a slight “splash” breaking the water, the boy’s head emerged. He swam a few strokes and then moved to the embankment, now holding something in his hand.

It was a square object wrapped in softened tanned leather, about the size of a palm, dripping wet in the boy’s hand.

Though winter in Quanzhou was mostly damp and cold, the boy seemed completely unaffected by the bone-chilling seawater. He slowly unwrapped the leather, his eyes fixed on the object in his palm.

A jade imperial seal, with five intertwined dragons as its knob, inscribed with eight seal script characters reading “Receiving the Mandate of Heaven, Longevity and Prosperity.” It was completely untarnished, and under the bright moonlight, the jade glowed with a lustrous sheen, making the boy’s palm holding it appear almost translucent.

This was the Imperial Jade Seal passed down since the Qin Dynasty, a national treasure. Throughout the millennia, it had appeared and disappeared, and the emperors of all dynasties regarded possessing it as a sign of the Mandate of Heaven.

When the Great Wei Dynasty was established, the founding emperor had fortuitously obtained the Imperial Jade Seal and was overjoyed. He kept it in the Yuanshi Hall within the palace, and for every major ceremony of Heaven worship, the seal would be impressed upon the imperial edict for the ceremony, thus demonstrating that he held the Mandate of Heaven.

The current Yongxi Emperor, at the beginning of his reign, faced continuous doubt precisely because he lacked this Imperial Jade Seal that represented the transfer of imperial power.

It was said that after Young Emperor Xiao Yu died from falling off his horse at the hunting grounds, this Imperial Jade Seal mysteriously vanished.

Alongside this embankment, crowded with people during the day, who would have imagined that for these three years, the seal had been wrapped in this piece of leather, hidden in a cavity eroded by seawater below?

With each rising and falling tide, it quietly and lonely guarded the darkness, just like its master, this young boy.

The boy stared at the jade seal in his hand for a long time, then suddenly curled his lips in self-mockery and muttered to himself, “What use is there in keeping you? I might as well send you away with the tide, to be unrestrained, roaming the four seas, better than hiding and concealing, never seeing the light of day!”

He climbed back onto the embankment, stood tall, and abruptly raised his arm, about to throw the jade seal into the tide under the moonlight.

Once it entered the sea, carried away by the surging tide, this object would forever sink into the ocean, never to return.